


Sticks and Stones

by revoltrad



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 19:56:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16226228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revoltrad/pseuds/revoltrad
Summary: "I was horrified, you know. I thought maybe Leo-san had lost his mind from the pain and agony… But that wasn’t it."[...]"And of course I got mad, yeah? There’s no way he’d gain from breaking an arm.And I swore to myself. Even though he went through so much, this boy never resented or hated anyone...He only told them he loved them. And so, I decided I would punish all the guys who ever made him sad."Madara's POV of some checkmate stuff.





	Sticks and Stones

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read checkmate, go read that first. Bring tissues.

A huddle of lesser-known students push past Madara on his way across the grounds of Yumenosaki. It’s a sunny day, and he’d thought to take a stroll, maybe a run at some point. The group had been muttering amongst themselves urgently, fearfully, and hadn’t been paying Madara any mind before they’d crashed right into him. Upon seeing him, though, their eyes widen in a panic and they bolt. Madara watches them go, utterly confused.

 

Humming softly to himself, Madara turns the corner near the archery range, spirits high. Something catches his attention before he can get too far away, though.

 

A cat is meowing. Not the typical, soft feline murmurs of happiness. It’s a yowling, distraught sound that Madara is surprised he almost missed. He might as well check it out, especially knowing the cats around here are special to his best friend, Leo. If one of them is stuck in a tree, he’ll be very happy to help it out.

 

But the sight that greets him when he enters the range curdles his blood in his veins.

 

Leo lies, face down, on the wooden floors of the range, a pool of blood blossoming forth on the light woodgrain, coming from his arm, which is bent at an angle that can only be described as  _ wrong _ . 

 

Madara has seen blood and broken bones before. He has seen much worse. In any other situation, he would be unfazed, ready to leap into action to fix, to right whatever is wrong. But it’s  _ Leo _ , and he freezes up. The air in his lungs turns solid, and he drowns in his own terror right there where he stands.

 

Leo is  _ hurt _ .

 

He realizes that Leo is moving his uninjured arm. Madara watches in absolute horror as Leo painstakingly dips his fingertips into his own blood, then drags them across the floor to map out a musical staff.

 

In the silence of the hall, as Madara finds himself paralyzed with shock, Leo’s voice grinds out, strained and breaking.

 

“I’m so happy…” And yet tears flow freely down Leo’s cheeks as he speaks. “This is the first time I’ve ever felt such pain, how lucky!” His voice doesn’t match his words. Crazed, pleading, broken in a way that Madara has never before heard, in a way that he never wanted to hear… Leo says his signature phrase.

 

“Ahhh, inspiration, it’s come, it’s come…”

 

And his fingers begin to dot notes across the staff, crimson music that burns itself into Madara’s mind like a brand. It’s nothing at all to Madara to conjure up the tune, years of musical practice making the sound come to him with ease in his own mind. It is haunting, hurting, cutting deep to his core.

 

“...Leo-san?” he says, desperate for the scene to be fake, to be a joke,  _ please let Leo spring to his feet, yelling a triumphant “Wahaha~  _ **_☆_ ** _! Mama, you sure fell for it, huh?!” _

 

But he doesn’t. Instead, his hand stutters to a stop as he tries to blink clarity into his bright green eyes through the overwhelming pain.

 

Madara feels his heart  _ break _ .

 

He moves to approach Leo, finally unstuck, finally ready to fix.

 

“Ma...ma…?”

 

That’s when a hiss interrupts Madara’s movements, a streak of grey fur edging oddly into his line of sight out of the corner of the room. A fat cat limps over and parks itself firmly between Leo and Madara, tail flicking angrily, daring him to approach. It’s dotted with blood of its own, although it doesn’t seem to be gravely injured.

 

“Little John…?” Leo manages from between clenched teeth. “It’s okay… Mama is a friend, you know?”

 

The cat, Little John, she seems to be called, lowers its ears and retreats to Leo’s side. It purrs, and Leo finally seems to lose his battle against the pain. He lets out a miserable sound that twists into a sob.

 

Madara can’t hold back any longer. He’s by Leo’s side in half a second flat, on his knees and brushing the fiery bangs back out of Leo’s face.

 

“M...Mama,” Leo whimpers, and Madara soothes him with a shush.

 

“I’m here, Leo-san, I’m here. It’s okay. I’ll take care of you.”

 

Leo’s blood-covered hand finds Madara’s face and presses against his cheek, staining it red.

 

“Hurts,” Leo croaks through the tears.

 

“I know. I know. We’re gonna get you out of here.”  _ Hospital _ , Madara thinks.  _ Leo needs a hospital. _ But Madara is afraid to move him. Madara breaks people with ease when they’re whole already. He’s terrified he’ll make things worse. “What happened, Leo?” 

 

Madara’s too shaken to remember the honorific.

 

“Little John, Little John, is she okay?”  _ Because of  _ course, Madara thinks,  _ of course Leo would be more worried about the cat than himself _ .

 

Madara glances at the cat in question, who is still purring away at Leo’s side.

 

“I think she’ll be okay,” Madara says. “She’s not bleeding too much.”  _ Not as much as you. _ “Leo, what  _ happened _ ?” He needs to know. He isn’t going to let Leo dodge this one.

 

Leo is crying hard, now.

 

“Those guys… they usually just… just loiter, you kn-... know? But t-today… they w-were burning Little John with a lighter. T-” his voice catches with a sob that rips through his chest. “Trying to shoot her w-... with arrows.”

 

Madara’s heart collapses in on itself like a poorly built house of cards. 

 

“Those guys…” The ones that had bumped into Madara…?

 

It disgusts him. Anger flares in his veins like liquid fire, a match struck and touched to gasoline. The urge to  _ hurt  _ the people who did this to that cat, to Leo…

 

“And you…” Madara says, barely able to get the words out as he squeezes Leo’s hand in his own. He needs to know. “What did they do to you, Leo?”

 

“Nothing,” Leo chokes out, “just, I fell, they were chasing us, and I… I fell bad, I couldn’t, with Little John, I couldn’t---”

 

_ Couldn’t catch himself _ , Madara finishes internally. He has to close his eyes, has to will himself to stay rooted to the spot, to squeeze Leo’s hand just short of too hard and not leave right now to go and do something completely fucking  _ stupid _ .

 

No, he can do that later. 

 

He  _ will _ do that later.

 

Leo’s shaking, probably in shock. Madara leans in and presses a gentle kiss to Leo’s forehead, cradling his tear-streaked face in his hands.

 

Priorities.

 

“I have to move you, Leo… I… should probably call an ambulance, right?”

 

“No-,” Leo says at once, emphatic, shaking his head rapidly, which makes his hair fan out in the air around him. “No ambulance. I’m okay. It’s okay, see?” He looks at his arm, as if to prove his words, but all he can manage after that is a pained groan, his own eyes shutting.

 

“You’re not okay. You need a hospital, Leo…”

 

“ _ No, _ ” Leo moans. “Pathetic, so pathetic, I don’t need---”

 

Madara is quiet. Leo isn’t going to win this one, but Madara also needs to keep him calm, keep him quiet. He’s still bleeding, and they’re wasting time.

 

“Okay,” Madara says, acting on impulse, as he is sometimes known to do. The hospital is not far, probably thanks to that Tenshouin guy, so he has an idea of a compromise that they can make. “Okay, Mama is going to carry you. It’s all going to be okay.”

 

Leo makes a sound of complaint, but still his hand reaches out and closes around the fabric of Madara’s white button-up. 

 

Madara knows that this is going to be hard. To move Leo means to move his arm- and that…

 

“This is going to hurt,” he tells Leo quietly. “I’m sorry.”

 

The sound he makes when Madara so much as jostles him is gut-wrenching. Leo screams, high and clear, and then bites it off, strangling his own voice.

 

Madara tucks an arm beneath Leo’s legs, and then pulls him to his chest. In one fluid motion, Madara lifts Leo as he rises to his feet, cradling him as carefully as possible.

 

Madara does his best to keep Leo stationary in his arms as he carries him to the hospital, but he can’t keep him still enough. Leo muffles his pained gaspas and cries in the collar of Madara’s shirt, his injured arm folded against his chest between them. The fingers of his good arm are still clenched in Madara’s shirt, staining it with blood.

 

Madara thinks about how he will have to wash his best friend’s blood out of his clothes later, off of his skin, off of his face. Momentarily, he sees red, but a sharp whimper from Leo brings him back to his senses, and Madara bites his lip. He wants so badly to act. To enact justice on the people who hurt the precious man in his arms. It’s an urge he can barely contain; the only thing stopping him, the only thing keeping him grounded is the warmth of the boy in his arms, and the irony of that is not lost on Madara.

 

“Don’t tell anyone,” Leo begs when Madara stops at a crosswalk. “Don’t tell anyone, Mikejimama. Please.”

 

Madara grinds his teeth. But he still says, “Okay, Leo. Okay.”

 

The rest of the walk to the hospital and checking Leo in is a blur. Madara gives the doctors Leo’s information (he has it memorized) as Leo’s teeth chatter with shock and pain.

 

Madara finds himself sitting by Leo’s side as a doctor hooks an IV into his good arm, pumping him full of painkillers. He has to wait, alone, while they take Leo away to get x-rays. 

 

His mind spins in circles. He doesn’t understand humans. He doesn’t understand how people can be so intentionally cruel to the people that love them. How could those people do this to Leo? To Little John? 

 

Leo always lifts his heart higher, makes him feel lighter. They’re best friends, and Leo understands Madara in ways that no one else can. Leo is the only person that draws Madara in and makes him selfishly want to come closer to the redhead, whereas everyone else makes him want to run.

 

How  _ dare _ they?

 

Anger bubbles up within him again, but it has cooled into something sharp, something he can easily wield. Instead of mindless rage, Madara feels cold fury.

 

He buries his feelings when Leo returns, his mind foggy with pain medicine. Leo reaches for Madara’s hand, and Madara takes it into his own, gently smoothing his thumb along Leo’s skin. 

 

Madara listens as the doctor explains the damage, explains that Leo will need surgery, tonight, is quick to give them the contact information of Leo’s family when the doctor asks for it again.

 

Leo sleeps as the doctors wait for his family to arrive, and Madara sits, brushing Leo’s hair back out of his face. In his slumber, Leo’s expression os serene and open. He presses a kiss to Leo’s cheek when he’s sure he won’t wake up for it.

 

The Tsukinaga parents arrive, startled to see their son in this condition, frightened at the blood on Madara’s clothes. 

 

Madara plies them with niceties and calms them, as he knows he should. He’s vaguely familiar with Leo’s parents, and they with him - he and Leo have been close for a good long while, now, and while he hasn’t been around the two a lot, he knows them well enough. He gives them a barebones story about how Leo had fallen and Madara found him, and taken him to the hospital, the kind of story that will keep Leo’s secret safe. He leaves out the bullies, the cat, the bows and arrows, the musical staff. He leaves out his rage.

 

“You’re such a sweet boy,” Leo’s mother says, patting Madara on the shoulder as he makes to take his leave, feeling that ever-present urge to run curling in his stomach when faced with people who aren’t Leo.

 

Madara gives her a false smile, knowing she means well, even if she’s entirely wrong. He bows to both of Leo’s parents and excuses himself, promising to visit later when Leo is awake. 

 

Madara is not sweet. He is not good, he is not gentle, and most of all, Madara is not  _ forgiving _ .

 

He has bones to break.

**Author's Note:**

> I have mixed feelings abt this work... i really wanted to explore madara's POV of what happened, but i don't feel entirely satisfied with it. Madara's such a complex character, i sort of feel like this is too superficial, like i barely scratched the surface of his rage...
> 
> OH WELL... please let me know if you enjoyed this! writer's block is hard, but comments make it worth fighting : )
> 
> on twitter @revoltrad_


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